


Parenting Lessons

by cyanideanddiamonds



Category: My Chemical Romance, frank and gerard, frerard - Fandom, kidfic - Fandom
Genre: Fluff, Frerard, Kid!Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 13:58:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideanddiamonds/pseuds/cyanideanddiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is working at home with his and Frank's son, Axel. Axel usually makes noise, but today, nothing was to be heard. What could Axel be up to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parenting Lessons

GERARD’S POV

Axel, like me, likes to draw. I raised him with Frank, and, because of me, he was raised surrounded by crayons, paints, markers and coloring books. I’ve always been so proud of our artist of a son. He’ll draw anything. The only problem is…he draws it anywhere and everywhere. I’ve caught him drawing on the kitchen table, the walls in the hallways, and he’s even written “YEAH TOAST!” on the toaster. Our five year old son has been drawing more and more since he finished his most recent coloring book, and he’s been itching to find some sort of new surface to draw on. The drawings on the walls and tables and other household objects have become more frequent. 

Today, Axel was being quieter than usual. Usually, when I was at work- drawing in my office- I’d hear him rolling his trucks around, singing to himself, or crumpling pages he’s drawn on. Today, the house is deathly still. The silence is almost suspicious.

“Child!” 

There is no response to my call.

“Spawn?!” 

I call again. 

“Axel?! Are you breathing?! Where’s daddy?!”

No answer.

“Frank? Babe? Are you home? Can you check the child?”

Nothing.

“AXEL?!”

I stand up from my chair after there is no response and bolt out of my office.

“Axel?”

All I hear is the quietness and I knew something is up.

“Axel, Where are you?”

“In here, daddy,” I hear his small voice calling from the room where we keep all Frank’s guitars and the keyboard.

“Axel wh-” I stop talking in shock at what I see what Axel is doing. He is holding Frank’s guitar, Bela, in his lap and is coloring on her with my permanent markers. “What are you doing?!” I run over to him and take Bela off his lap to look at the damage. 

“I wanted to decorate it,” he said, staring into my wide eyes and paler-than-my-usual-pale face. I force a sincere smile on my face, even though I am angry with him.

“Baby, uh… it’s cool,” I said nervously, trying to comfort him. “What’s daddy going to say?”

“I want to surprise daddy with it.”

“Oh, he’ll be surprised,” I whisper to myself.

“Honey, I’m home,” I hear Frank sing from the front doorway. 

“shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit,” I mutter under my breath as I hear Frank trotting up the stairs. 

“Where is you at, Baby?”

“We’re in here, daddy,” Axel says.

Crap.

“Hey guys. Wha-” his face falls when he sees the colorful guitar in between me and our son. “What?” He looks as if he was about to cry. “Bela,” he whispered. I throw him a nervous look and he returned one that was full of panic and slight sadness. “Gerard. Hall. Now.”

“Okay,” I whimper. He grasps my wrist and drags me into the hall for what he likes to call, a ‘whisperey-parenty-talkity-talkity’. 

“What did you let small fry over there do?”

“I didn’t...I mean…I was in my office…he wasn’t making noise…I had no idea...I...I...I’m so, so sorry,” I stutter. I feel my breathing hitch.

Frank sighs audibly and closes his eyes, trying to compose himself. “What are we going to do with that anklebiter?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that we have to explain to this certain individual that the instruments are not an appropriate drawing surface.”

“Shhh,” he breathed, putting his whole hand over my entire face. “Baby, big words. Shrink them.”

“I have so many small things in my life, I have every right to use extravagant words.”

“Small things?”

“Axel, because he’s five, and you, because you’re a hobbit.”

“A hobbit? Really Gerard. My feet are not remotely hairy.”

“But you’re my hobbit,” I chuckle before kissing his forehead.

“Ugh, you motherfucker,” he says scratching the back of his neck. “You know, about Bela. I thought she needed some makeup,” he says, shaking his head and smiling. “I guess she’s pretty now.”

I laugh and pull him in for a hug. “Let’s go train the young padawan to use his powers correctly.”

He laughs at my bad Star Wars joke and we head back into the studio. Axel is still sitting on the floor with Bela and the markers.

“Honey?” Frank approaches Axel on the floor and sits next to him. “Ax, you know you’re not supposed to draw on anything but paper,” he says sweetly.

“I know, Dad! But I couldn’t find any paper so I found something else white.”

“Just like your daddy’s ass,” Frank mutters quietly shooting me a humourous glare.

“Shut up, midget,” I mouthed at him defending my pale ass. He rolls his eyes and turns to Axel.

“I’m sorry I colored on Bela, Daddy,” he said, hugging Frank’s hips as his bottom lip started to tremble and his eyes began to well up.

“Aw no, Buddy,” Frank sighed, looking down at our son and ruffling his hair. “It’s okay, don’t cry, Baby.”

“But I hurt Bela!” He cries.

“No, Squishy, it’s fine.” He soothed, calling him the nickname we picked up from his Finding Nemo obsession from last week. “Now she’s pretty,”

“I’m sorry,” Axel wimpers.

“But you can’t just draw on anything, honey. Paper is here for for a good reason,” I say, walking over to my hugging family and joining in the hugfest. “Promise me you’ll keep your art to paper?”

“I promise.”

______________________________________________________________________________

THAT SAME NIGHT

“I think we handled that well,” says Frank, climbing under the covers next to me. I peer over the glossy pages of my Batman comic.

“Yeah. Listen. I’m really sorry about Bela. It’s just that…I know Axel’s a curious kid, and his artistic tendencies don’t help him that much and I know you love that guitar and I hope it’s not ruined...I mean do you think we can fix it? Maybe we can get some glossy ass paint or some shit and-”

Frank swiftly snatches my comic from my hold and violently chucks it across the room before crashing his lips against mine in a shut-the-fuck-up kiss.

“It’s okay,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry.”

“I love you.”

“Kay.”

“Heyyy,” Frank whines. “You butthole.”

“Your favorite butthole.”

“I’m the bottom,” Frank retorts.

“Frank, shut the fuck up, you’re the top.”

“Well, I was last night, but what about last week?”

“Oh…”

“I go both ways, bitch,” he says shimmying like the sassy bitch he is.

“Oh, I love you by the way.”

“Kay,” Frank says flipping himself on his side, facing away from me. Shaking my head and turning off my light, I kissed him on the temple.

“Night, Frankie.”

“Night bitch,” Frank says, slapping my ass.

**Author's Note:**

> Hai guys thanks for reading this<3 We worked really hard on this and we hoped you enjoyed. This is for the frerardhub kid!fic challenge:) Such fluff. Very cuteness. Much frerard. WOW.
> 
> -Dani and Em;3


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